


How Is One Supposed To Deal With Having A Gay Crush On One's Best Friend? (Is There, Like, A Guide Or Something?)

by Toastmaster9000



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Best Friends, Coming Out, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Gen, How Do I Tag, Introspection, M/M, POV Richie Tozier, Rated T for language, Religious Guilt, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, just a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 05:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastmaster9000/pseuds/Toastmaster9000
Summary: Richie is kinda freaking out: he's realized he has a crush on one of his best friends but he has no idea who to talk to about it.So, NOT talking about it is suffocating... but the thought of actually talking about it out loud with another human being makes him want to go jump into the quarry and not come back up.What to do, what to do...?





	How Is One Supposed To Deal With Having A Gay Crush On One's Best Friend? (Is There, Like, A Guide Or Something?)

**Author's Note:**

> MY FIRST FORAY INTO THE IT FANDOM.  
I hope y'all like it.
> 
> Channeled some of my own gay panic at that age into this thing. XD

This was a stupid idea. Why did he even ask? What was he hoping to get out of this? 

...other than to maybe finally tell someone and get it off his chest so he didn’t feel like he was suffocating in his own skin anymore...

But what if Stan just laughs at him? Or pokes fun? Or doesn’t take him seriously at all?

_ I mean, sure, I’d probably deserve it, what with how much shit I’ve given him over the years - all of them, really… _ Richie thought absently, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

What gave him the right to ask any of them to listen to his problems and not use it against him? 

He never took things seriously, why should they? Just because he asked them to? 

Richie frowned at this. Would anyone ever actually feel comfortable enough to come to  _ him  _ and confide in him about anything serious like this? Would they sit there and agonize about who to talk to and skip over him entirely because… because he never took  _ anything  _ seriously? Richie didn’t like that thought. Surely, his  _ friends  _ would know that when it really mattered, he’d be there for them - for  _ any  _ of them, that he  _ could _ take things seriously… 

He knew he should apply that same logic to his friends right back. Realistically, what would change, really? Deep down he was  _ mostly sure _ they wouldn’t call him a fag and cut him out of their lives... but he was scared, because,  _ what if _ -? Richie swallowed hard, heart panging unpleasantly as Henry Bowers’ face flashed in his mind’s eye, yelling at him, calling him names, and quite literally outing him - without really realizing it - to everyone in the arcade... Fear did some really stupid, shitty things. He didn’t think his friends would do that… but he was so scared of the possibility of seeing the same look that was on Bowers’ face on any of his friend’s faces...

But, who else could he talk to?

Honestly, he’d probably talk to Eddie… if his problem weren’t specifically  _ about _ Eddie. 

Richie thought about talking to Bill about it. Big Bill, their fearless leader. But Richie was nervous. He didn’t necessarily think Bill would judge him or anything - but at the same time he wasn’t quite sure how to read Bill, especially because they had that whole fight over the summer and he wasn’t entirely sure if he or Bill were 100% past that or not? And he also didn’t want to burden Bill with his problems when he was already dealing with the loss of Georgie and the weird emotional shit his parents were going through. Gay panic, Richie decided, didn’t really compete with dead siblings and the family problems that followed… 

He considered Ben - kind and understanding Ben - but Ben was busy pining after Beverly and missing her terribly… sure, maybe this would have been a welcome distraction for Ben, but Richie was feeling selfish and wanted a rapt audience, not someone whose mind was half on his own problems. 

Actually, Richie probably would have talked to Bev about this… She was a girl, she’d know how crushes on guys worked, right? Maybe she’d have some words of wisdom for him with how to deal with it? She totally had a thing for Bill, didn’t she? How did she keep that whole thing normal? Richie’s shoulders sagged as he walked, frowning down at his shuffling feet. Now, if only Bev hadn’t moved to Portland to be with her aunt - well, actually, if only her asshole dad hadn’t been a gross piece of shit and let her the hell alone, then she wouldn’t have  _ had  _ to leave. Richie sighed heavily, missing her greatly and hating her dad just a bit more at forcing her away from him and the rest of The Losers. He very, very briefly considered calling her - but he was  _ definitely  _ not prepared to have this conversation over the phone in his living room. He didn’t feel comfortable doing it on some payphone or something either. Nor did he want to have his  _ dirty little secret _ physically written down in a letter out of sheer paranoia… not to mention he’d be going out of his mind waiting for a response from her. 

Richie just wanted to be able to talk to someone face to face. 

Mike was busy helping around the family farm but at the same time he wasn’t too sure how Mike would handle this conversation either. Could Mike relate? Would he even know how to respond to this kind of thing? Richie did like Mike a lot and he did trust him. Mike was quiet and thoughtful and very smart, especially with all the reading he did. Mike would probably have run across something like this in one of his many books, probably… maybe Mike would be who he reached out to next… if Mike ever had another free moment ever again.

And that left Stan. Stan who was actually (semi-)religious and (half-heartedly) practicing? Stan definitely came off disillusioned with his faith a lot… but Stan  _ did  _ still practice in some respects, which left Richie wondering what was “okay” and what was “not okay”? Stan was his friend, probably one of his best friends, but, like, what did Jewish people think of  _ the homosexuals _ ? Did it say anything about them in their book? Richie remembered reading bits of the bible but he couldn’t really remember anything explicitly saying “gay” was “bad” but… enough people disliked “the homos” and referenced the bible pretty regularly as an explanation for their condemnation… maybe he missed it somewhere? Not like he read the whole thing cover to cover. 

But on the other hand, didn’t Jesus and God and everyone actually important in there say not to judge “lest ye be judged” or some shit? 

“Ugh… so stupid. All of this is so stupid.” Richie muttered irritably, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses sat. He was starting to get a headache and he could not get his shoulders to relax no matter how many deep and calming breaths he tried to take. Eddie would tell him he was working his single brain cell way too hard. And Richie would definitely agree on that. 

“Maybe if your stupid face would get the fuck out of my head, Eds.” Richie grumbled under his breath as he sullenly trudged his way down into The Barrens. He’d asked Stan if he would meet him down at the club house. Richie needed somewhere quiet, somewhere he felt comfortable… somewhere he knew they definitely wouldn’t be overheard. 

Why was he so scared?

Richie snorted and smiled wryly to himself. There was plenty to be scared of. His father probably definitely would not approve… He wondered absently if he would be thrown out of the house like he’d heard other parents did to their kids for coming out. His mother wouldn’t do that though, right? She wouldn’t allow it… maybe…? Hopefully…?

Richie shook his head. Yeah,  _ that  _ was cause for concern, but he shouldn’t be afraid of  _ Stanley _ , who was his  _ friend  _ \-  _ or  _ the other Losers. If they were truly his friends - which he honestly believed that they were - they’d accept him no matter what, wouldn’t they? Nothing would  _ actually  _ change - he’d still be the same Richie that they knew and (most of the time) loved, just… he’d maybe he’d drop  _ a tiny bit _ of super straight, manly man bravado he thought he needed to show. He trusted them all - he really did - and he knew, logically, that his… internal crisis, or whatever this was, wouldn’t change anything between them - well… other than with Eddie… their relationship would probably definitely change if he ever actually fessed up to any of this.

Before he knew it Richie found himself standing in front of the trap door that led into the clubhouse. He stared dazedly down at where he knew the door was and felt his insides clench and writhe uncomfortably. Stan would be here soon. Which meant he’d have to talk - because he was the idiot that asked Stan if they could talk - and then he’d be forced to say all the shit he’d been agonizing over  _ out loud _ . Which would make everything real. If he could admit it to someone else out loud, that would mean he’d be admitting it to himself too... 

Was he making a mistake? 

Irrational panic that Richie couldn't logic away was making his chest feel tight. Maybe he could laugh this all off and avoid the conversation entirely. It was stupid. This was stupid.  _ He _ was stupid. 

What could he say, though? What would Stan  _ buy _ ? 

That he just wanted to hang out? 

Not  _ actually  _ have any sort of heart-to-heart despite the whole ominous sounding and painfully obvious: “Hey, are you free to hang later? Maybe at the club house? I wanted to maybe talk to someone about… something…” Stan had given him a curious look but nodded. He didn’t ask for an explanation - or ask any probing questions, really. 

Just a soft, merciful: “I can meet you over there after lunch, does that work?” 

And with a mumbled affirmative and a slightly strained (on Richie’s part anyway) parting of ways led Richie to where he was standing now, casually drowning in a state of growing internal hysteria.

Richie cringed then, thinking about their little exchange. Stan didn’t even question it - so his face must’ve given it all away. He must’ve looked super pathetic or something for Stan to not prod for more information... which meant there was no way in - whatever Hell-type-place that Jewish people believed in - that he could bullshit his way out of having this conversation. 

“Fuck…” Richie toed absently at the expertly hidden seam between the ground and the trapdoor that led into their secret clubhouse. He could feel his jaw aching with the amount of nervous teeth clenching he was doing and slowly forced himself to try to relax, opening his mouth with a very audible click. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. It will all be  _ fine _ .

Right?

Frowning and shaking his head sharply as if to physically rid the thought from his mind Richie sighed heavily and shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets, restlessly picking at the lint to try and distract himself. 

Richie wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring vacantly at his shoes but the sound of rustling trees made him nearly jump right out of his skin. Heart racing, Richie whirled around with a strangled sort of yelp, half expecting to see Henry Bowers standing there and ready to pummel him into oblivion - instead he was met with a mildly stunned Stanley, eyebrows raised.

“Uh, you alright?” Richie stared dumbly at Stan for a moment before laughing shakily. 

“Oh man, you scared the shit out of me. I was all zoned out and then for some reason I thought you were Bowers and I about shit myself. Holy fuck.” Richie was dramatically gripping his chest and taking deep, exaggerated breaths while fanning himself with his free hand. Stan rolled his eyes but smiled.

“I called out to you but you were definitely off somewhere else.” 

Richie opened his mouth to retort but then the realization that The Talk was coming soon sent him into a new and different sort of panic. Richie’s mind immediately lurched out to seize something,  _ anything _ to change the subject. Maybe he could manage to avoid The Talk entirely. 

Not today! 

Probably not ever… He’d never talk about it, ever, to anyone. Yeah.

Its fine, no one needs to know about it, its whatever. 

He’d survive. 

He’d deal with it on his own. 

Not a big deal.

“Do you guys believe in Hell?” Richie blurted out suddenly, which Stanley responded to with a quizzical look, “I think I remember hearing you guys don’t believe in that, right? Jewish people I mean - ‘you guys’ meaning Jewish people - or  _ you  _ specifically? What do you believe in, Stan? Is there somewhere else that naughty Jewish people are sent? Like would you guys use the phrase ‘no way in hell’ or like, is that just silly - ‘cause that’s not something you believe in? I was thinking about it and I wasn’t sure. I can’t actually imagine that kind of phrase coming out of your dad- though I guess he  _ is _ a Rabbi and they’re not, like,  _ allowed  _ to swear or whatever, right? Or is that just priests ‘cause they gotta be pure and saintly or whatever - I guess it’d probably be more likely that you’d say something in Hebrew, that would make more sense. Right? Or maybe whatever other language there is. Not Hebrew. The other one? There is another one, right? Are there such things as Jewish saints? Or is that like, a Catholic or Christian thing only? Religion sure is wild, man.” 

Richie realized he’d been pacing and stopped suddenly, pushed his glasses back up his nose and turned to look at Stanley. Richie, with a sense of mild humiliation, found that he was out of breath and incredibly flustered. And he was sweating. A lot. Jesus.

But did that do the trick? 

...What the hell did he even just say?

Stanley let out a short bark of laughter after a brief moment of stunned silence - Richie had been stiff as stone for the entire duration, he wasn’t sure if he was even breathing - before Stan shook his head at the barely-keeping-it-together Richie. 

“Wow, you’re in rare form today. I think you might’ve broken the world record for amount of words spoken in under a minute, Rich.” Stanley says playfully - Richie wasn’t sure if it was in an attempt to lessen Richie’s probably violently obvious tension - before Stan offered him a gentle and patient smile. “How about we go down in the club house and you can tell me what is really on your mind.”

Oh. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Stan saw right through it. 

Richie would be impressed if he wasn’t so incredibly terrified. 

Then again, it probably wasn’t something to really be impressed by, Richie was roughly 100% positive he was about as subtle as a freight train right about now. He couldn’t exactly witness his own manic state from Stan’s point of view, but judging by Stan’s overall reaction and demeanor - he was fooling exactly no one. 

Richie stood at the mouth of the clubhouse even as Stan had finished descending. 

For a wild fleeting moment he considered running away. Just turning tail and getting the fuck out of there. But, then how would he explain  _ that _ ? What could possibly be an acceptable excuse for suddenly ditching your friend after  _ you  _ had been the one to ask  _ him _ to talk. 

Richie had very effectively trapped himself. 

There wasn’t an easy way out so he should just fucking do it. 

Stan was here. He was willing to listen. 

Just do it.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out shakily, Richie steeled himself and turned to carefully climb down the ladder and into the club house. He realized with some embarrassment that he was trembling all over and his heart was racing about as fast as his mind was. He turned to face the inside of the clubhouse and stood there quaking in front of the ladder a moment before he folded his arms over his chest to try and smother the trembling and stalked forward. 

He could do this.

Stan had taken a seat on the swing and was lightly rocking himself back and forth with his feet, watching Richie with polite attentiveness. Richie swallowed hard. Suddenly his mouth felt very, very dry and the wild desire to run was creeping back in. Richie broke eye contact with Stan and stared down at the ground taking another shaky breath. If Stan was going to disown him or whatever, he didn’t really want to watch his face as it happened. Richie dug his nails into his forearms, keeping his arms clutched tight across his chest, as if that would somehow protect him.

“I- uh…” 

What if Stan didn’t want to be his friend anymore after this? That thought made Richie’s heart pang miserably and he could feel his throat start to burn and his eyes begin to sting with warm tears. 

Great. He was going to start crying before he could even get the words out.

Just great. 

Richie squawked with alarm and nearly jumped out of his skin for the second time that day when a hand unexpectedly came to rest on his upper arm. He snapped his head back up and found Stan had moved from the swing and was now standing in front of him - he had recoiled a little bit at Richie’s start and took back his hand as well.

“S-sorry…” Richie said, and he hated the fact that his voice cracked. 

“Richie, what’s going on?” Stan was back in his personal space, looking increasingly more concerned, “Are you okay?”

_ No, not really. What if you’re about to hate me? _

Richie cleared his throat in an attempt to dislodge the lump growing there, it came out a little strangled, which did not help anyone or lessen the worried look on Stan’s face any. Richie couldn’t keep looking into the earnest concern on his friend’s face - what if it wasn’t there anymore when he’d said what he needed to say? - and dropped his gaze back down at the ground between their feet. Regret was starting to seriously smother him and Richie drew in a shaky breath, unfolding one of his arms to wipe irritably at his cheek and destroying the evidence of his tears. 

He was so angry with himself for falling apart like this.

“We’re friends, right?” Richie asked quietly, ignoring the wobble in his own voice. He didn’t dare look at Stan, but he heard the light incredulous huff that was not-quite-a-laugh that left his friend and felt Stan’s hands gently come to rest on either of his arms. Richie couldn’t stop his lip from quivering and more tears began to fall but he didn’t bother trying to wipe them away this time, he just tightened the fold of his arms.

“Yes, Richie. You’re my friend. You know that. You’re one of my best friends.” There was a short pause, maybe Stan was expecting him to look up, but Richie just couldn’t bring himself to do that. “Rich, what is this about? You’re really starting to freak me out.” 

“Y-you’d accept me, no matter what, right?” Richie asked in a slightly strained voice, “‘C-cause we’re friends? You wouldn’t stop being my friend over something- something th-that doesn’t really matter? ‘Cause I’d still be Richie, I’d still be me… nothing would really change…” 

Richie slowly lifted his gaze from their feet to Stan’s face - the worried frown he’d been wearing before gave way to something softer as understanding appeared to wash over him - Stan was always pretty smart and intuitive… And suddenly, Richie felt very silly for ever having doubted Stan to begin with. Stanley Uris was one of his best friends...

“I think I’m gay.” 

Stan just smiled at him.

“Er, well… half? Maybe? I mean, I still like girls…? I like both?” Richie blurted out and waited a beat. He hadn’t struck dead by any god, Jewish or otherwise. Richie sniffled, realizing he had been crying a lot harder than he thought he had, his head hurt and his face felt hot and puffy - but he felt  _ so much lighter _ now. Richie laughed weakly and wiped at his wet cheeks with the heel of his palm. “I said it.” He said with some amazement and smiled shakily at Stan, who after a brief moment of mildly stunned silence on Richie’s part, tugged Richie into a hug. 

“I’m sorry you were so scared, Rich.” Stan said softly, wrapping his arms firmly but gently around Richie’s shoulders and clutched Richie close. Richie hesitated momentarily before carefully folding his arms around Stan’s waist and held him. This felt nice. The stranglehold of anxiety had actually lifted from Richie’s chest and he laughed again, feeling very giddy and pressed his face into Stan’s shoulder. 

“I can’t believe I said it. It’s real now.”

“I’m pretty sure it was still real regardless of you having said it.” Stan offered matter-of-factly, Richie could hear the smile in his voice and he couldn’t help but giggle. 

See? Nothing changed. 

It was okay. 

Everything was okay. 

Stan wasn’t going to damn him to whatever underworld Jewish people believed in. 

Stan was still his friend. 

Stan would always be there for him.

And the world hadn’t ended.

“There’s something else…” Richie started and slowly pulled back, “I-uh… I like Eddie… like,  _ LIKE-like _ Eddie…” and Richie was a little surprised to see Stan smirk at him. “Y-you can’t tell him! Or the others! Okay? I don’t- I’m still- I’m trying to figure things out still…” 

“I think I can do that.” Stan said, nodding thoughtfully before turning to look back at Richie with a suddenly much more sober expression on his face, one that set Richie a little on edge, “Just so long as you promise not to tell them that I like Bill.” Stan finished and watched him.

Wait, did he hear that right?

Richie’s mouth dropped open. 

He  _ definitely _ hadn’t expected  _ that _ . 

“Wh-  _ really _ ? I mean I like Bill too -  _ not like that  _ \- but I never would have guessed, you-? Not that you’re  _ not friendly _ with him or anything, just- wow. I didn’t expect that. Wait, did you expect that from me? Were you surprised?” Stan just smirked again causing Richie to huff. 

“Richie, my friend, my good buddy,” Stan started, grinning and lightly clapping Richie on the shoulder, “Now, I’m not sure how well the others can read you - Eddie is definitely clueless don’t worry - but, you kind of fall into that category of flirting where you pull the girl’s pigtails because you have no idea how to deal with your crush. You pick on him  _ so much _ .” Richie could feel his face getting very, very warm. 

“Am I that obvious?!” 

“I mean, to be fair, you pick on  _ everyone _ , so maybe you aren’t that obvious.” Stan smiled, “But I see the way you look at him when you don’t think anyone is watching.”

“I’m not sure if I should be creeped out or flattered that you regularly stare at me, Stanley.”

“Definitely flattered.” Richie grinned before slowly rubbing his hands over his face. He could feel that headache you get sometimes from crying beginning to creep in behind his eyes. Richie took in a deep breath and let it out in a huge sigh before he took a heavy seat on the clubhouse floor. Stan wrinkled his nose a little and took a seat on one of the chairs they had repurposed from the junkyard.

“What now?” Richie asked after a moment. What  _ was _ the next step after this? Neither of them apparently had intended to let this come out. Richie still felt mildly stunned he’d even managed to say it out loud and now to learn that Stan was also in the same boat? Wild.

Stan shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out too.” Stan sighed but offered him a smile, “Thank you, though. For telling me. For trusting me.”

“Well now I just feel kinda stupid that I was so worried about it in the first place. I was so freaked out. I don’t know why I thought you were gonna just… I dunno, kick my ass and call me names or something- But _ you _ ! You were just all self-assured and matter-of-fact about yourself, what the fuck? How were you not scared? Well I guess I did just kinda tell you that I was into Eddie first, that would probably make confessing something similar a little easier- I still think you’re like, cheating at life. We’re teenagers, we’re still meant to be sorting this kind of shit out. You’re not allowed to be so self-assured.” Stan just snorted and shrugged again.

“I just know what I want, I guess.” 

“So... are you gonna tell Bill?” 

“Are  _ you _ going to tell Eddie?” 

“Touché. I mean, I  _ want to _ . I do… I just… I don’t want to ruin our friendship? What if it makes everything weird?” Stan was just nodding solemnly. 

“I almost told Bill a couple of times, but I could never quite gather enough courage to actually say it…” Stan smirked a little, “So, you should feel very blessed with this knowledge. If you hadn’t told me any of this, I probably would’ve just never told anyone and dealt with it on my own.”

“Is that just like a common not-straight thing? I was quite literally debating on whether or not I should just ditch you entirely and not have this conversation at all and suffer in silence rather than, yanno, face rejection or whatever..”

“The thing is, you are very vocal person. I think if you kept this bottled up, it would’ve ended up causing some kind of harm.”

“That’s a very kind way of saying I have zero filter, thank you for that.”

“I am just saying that you have a more visceral need to express yourself. Whereas I’m just kind of - the moment needs to be right and I have to decide if it is even necessary to express. It’s not that I’m trying to hide anything, I just never really felt like it was pertinent information to discuss? I don’t know. Nobody asked, so, I just didn’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t realize I was confessing my gay feelings to the AP English teacher. Also, what the hell, what else are you hiding? ‘Pertinent information to discuss’?”

“I guess while we’re in the sharing mood down here, I am pretty sure I also like girls. So, we also have that in common. I mean, I can appreciate the aesthetic of both girls and boys? But, if I develop feelings for someone, don’t really focus so much on peoples’ looks, if that makes sense? If I like them, I like them as a person? Not specifically their body? They could be a boy or a girl, it wouldn’t really matter to me, I don’t think. You know, I guess it was just too hard to explain so I just didn’t bother talking about it. I’m still trying to decipher it myself… Unfortunately, there isn’t a whole lot of information on this kind of stuff at the library.”

“Damn. Yeah, that does sound kinda complicated. Pretty sure I just kinda find them both attractive, period. Well, the ones I think are cute anyway. I have decided that I am a shallow bitch.” Richie grinned listening to Stan laugh, “What do you like about Bill?” Richie asked only to stop short and a mortified look claimed his face, “Oh my god, we’re gossiping like girls at a sleepover. Talking about the boys we have crushes on. I can’t believe it. I am a cliche. What has become of me?”

That one got a good laugh out of Stan too, Richie was pleased with himself, and he was feeling so much better now. Who knew that confiding in friends could be so - uplifting? Euphoric? Was that even the right use of that word? 

And then a bashful smile that Richie is pretty sure he’s never seen before took over Stan’s face and Richie immediately gave him his full attention, a grin already tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Man, he should’ve came out to Stan much sooner, seeing him like this was  _ adorable _ . 

“Well,” Stan began, glancing down at his hands, suddenly very interested in playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, “Bill is always happy to bird watch with me. You know, I love watching them and just being outside and Bill likes to come with a lot of the time and draw. It’s always so serene and relaxing already, but when he’s with me it just… I don’t know, multiplies those feelings? By a lot?” Stan laughed a little and rubbed a hand through his curly hair. “I think that’s definitely my favorite thing… but what I love about  _ him _ specifically I guess is… he’s smart. Very smart. He’s strong and brave-” Richie couldn’t help but smile right along with Stan as he listed these things about Bill, “-he makes  _ me _ feel brave. And I like how Bill seems to take care of everyone without even thinking about it. He’s so selfless and he just wants everyone to feel like they belong. He never makes fun of me-” Stan paused to shoot Richie a teasing look, “-he always goes out of his way to make sure everyone’s included. He’s a great leader… And, uh…” Stan trailed off and Richie saw a blush creeping over Stan’s cheeks up to his ears. 

“ _ OH _ , you definitely have to tell me, don’t leave me hanging. You’re  _ blushing _ , Stan.” Richie prodded and he was pretty sure his grin was borderline maniacal at this point.

“Oh shut up,” there was no heat behind the huffed out demand and Stan rubbed at his cheeks, “ _ Well _ \- I love how blue his eyes are, and how I can tell exactly how he’s feeling just by looking at them. I like the way he makes me feel… he seems to just intuitively know the right thing to say or do to calm me down when I’m feeling overwhelmed… And his stutter is super fucking cute, I don’t care what anyone else thinks - I love it.” Stan finished with a curt nod and they both shared a look before they both burst into laughter. 

“Wow, who knew you were such a romantic, Stanley~” Stan just rolled his eyes, smiling.

“And what about you?”

“What do I like about Eddie? Where to even start. He’s an adorable feral little gremlin and I love him. I can’t get enough of being around him. He gets so angry and holy shit he is so fucking cute when he gets mad, Stan. He’s like one of those tiny dogs that thinks they’re a big dog and it is hilarious and endearing all at once. And he can dish out the verbal jabs just as good as he gets them. I love it. I enjoy a good roasting, you know? And he’s just so quick with the clapbacks. I just - ugh, perfection. And he’s just so cute, Stan. I love his stupid little shorts he always wears and his stupid hair and those fucking freckles. Oh my god. I am hopeless. It is embarrassing how hopeless I am.” Stan was grinning and shaking his head, and then Richie continued, gentler this time: “He’s also very sweet and he cares  _ so _ deeply when he cares about things - which, is like, literally everything. He has such a big heart and I love it… He’s so genuine. And when he’s scared or worried or anything like that, I just always want to be there for him even though I know he doesn’t need protecting. He’s so much braver than he thinks he is.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll have to diagnose you with ‘Hopelessly Smitten’, Rich.”

Richie snorted but smiled. “Did you hear yourself just now? You are literally just as bad off. Pretty sure we’re both done for.”

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda sorta made Stan pansexual in this I guess? Or at least along that vein anyway. I thought it kinda fit him.  
To me, he just seems like the kind of person who would logic away stupid societal norms and more likely to fixate on the core of a person.
> 
> At any rate!  
I was inspired by the bit in IT: Chapter 2 where Stan is fixating so much on Bill when he's in the bathtub.  
-my brain: He totally has super gay feelings for Bill.
> 
> And then, again in IT: Chapter 2, with that whole poignant scene with Richie going to Stan's Bar Mitzvah when they were younger and then adult Richie saying "Thanks for showing up Stanley".  
-my brain: Richie and Stan told each other about their gay feelings about their friends and tHEY HAVE A QUEER CONNECTION.
> 
> And after dicking around on tumblr I saw some headcanon stuff or legit about how Stan's letters to the Losers were specific for each Loser and how Richie's said to "Be who you want to be, be proud" narration over Richie carving R + E on the bridge.  
-my brain: Gotta write it I guess.
> 
> So, here ya go.  
I hope it was enjoyable. ;;o;;  
I had feelings while writing it.
> 
> Thanks to EddiesLeftArm & LuncheonArt @ Tumblr for help and suggestions! ;;u;;


End file.
